Chapter 14 #2
“She’s fading,” she mutters.
“Her soul is tethering,” the oldest whispers. “We can feel it slipping. The overdose reached her bloodstream far too long ago.”
She looks me in the eyes, stepping away from Daisy.
“Mortal healing methods take time; we no longer have time—”
“Then make more time,” I growl, standing so abruptly the chair flies backwards. The room stills, and the eldest healer lowers her head.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. We… we do not think there is anything we can do for her.”
No. Those words don’t belong here. My hand lashes out before I can even register it. The healer gasps as I grab her by the throat, lifting her off the ground with one hand.
“You were not summoned to tell me what you can’t do.” I snarl.
“P-please—” she chokes, heels scraping against the stone as she dangles, eyes wide with fear.
“You were summoned to fix her.”
“Kor,” Aran says, his voice now shaking. “Please, she’s an elder—”
I twist. There’s a sharp crack, and the room goes silent. The healer’s body slumps in my grip, and I drop her to the floor like trash.
“Get me someone who can help,” I growl, stepping toward the others. “Now.”
They don’t argue, they just scramble, Aran’s eyes wide.
He has been my assistant for many years, but not once have I ever killed the help.
I can feel my sanity slipping, the darkest parts of me taking over as a vibrating feeling pulls from my core, directly towards the mortal girl half dead on the bed.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, my breathing ragged, my eyes not straying from her face.
Daisy’s body lies pale and motionless before me, and I can feel it—her soul flickering like a candle in a storm.
Each second, it grows dimmer; each second, she slips further from life.
I don’t know why that idea makes something twist in me.
It’s not grief or fear. It’s something else, something darker.
Her lips part—but no breath follows. Not yet. You do not get to leave like this. I take her hand in mine, and it’s ice cold.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I whisper. “You hear me, little flower? You don’t get to die.”
Why? I don’t know. I just know that I won’t allow it.
“I swear to every god above and below,” I breathe, voice low and shaking. “If you leave, I will burn this entire fucking universe to ash.”
The healer finally arrives, one even older than the last. She has silver hair, is half blind in one eye, and smells like parchment and old ink. Unlike the others, she doesn’t tremble when I meet her eyes.
“You know mortals?” I ask, voice low and ragged from exhaustion.
She nods at me, looking down at Daisy. “Better than most, if not all.”
I follow her eyes to Daisy’s body, her soul still flickering.
“She’s dying,” I snap. “You can’t let her die.”
I can feel my temper rising all over again, the emotions causing me to feel even more drained.
“She won’t. But if you want her to live…
” she pauses, placing a hand just above Daisy’s chest, not quite touching her.
“I have to place her in a coma. A deep one. Mortal methods won’t work fast enough, and immortal methods will only kill her if not done slowly and carefully.
Her soul needs time to root itself again, her body time to purify itself. ”
A silence stretches. I can feel how tense my jaw is, my wings twitching with each grind of my teeth. I take a slow, deep inhale through my nose. “Do it.” I say.
She nods, and I step back to give her room.
My pulse hammers through my ears as she starts the spell to place Daisy into a coma, her face seeming to look more relaxed than before.
But just as the spell stabilises, the summon hits me, the magic tugging at my spine with enough force to make me flinch.
Fucking Hell. Whoever wants me, wants me desperately.
They must be using every possible avenue to get me to them.
I nearly ignore it. I’ve ignored worse. But the energy feels familiar.
It’s an energy I have felt around Daisy before. Fuck.
I rip through the veil, materialising into a shitty apartment.
I land in the middle of the circle like a storm wrapped in flesh, wings half-unfurled and my eyes burning with pure fury.
The two mortals are surrounded by incense, chalk circles, and what looks like a poorly translated print out from a summoning book I had personally banned in three other realms. How the shit did they get their hands on that?
“Lucifer.” I mutter to myself. “You have five seconds to explain why the fuck you thought summoning me was a good idea.” I growl.
The sparkly one, Ezra, screams like a banshee. “FUCK—”
My head whips towards him, watching as he throws something at me. It splashes across my chest—cold, odd smelling. Did he just throw fucking Holy Water at me? I just stand there, dripping. It steams against my skin but doesn’t burn. I stare down at him, a sneer pulling across my mouth.
“I will not snap your neck for that,” I say coldly. “Only because she cares about you. However…”
I take a step forward, out of the circle I know damn well they thought would hold me in place, and back Ezra against the wall.
“If you ever try that again, I will peel you open slowly.”
“Ezra!” The girl snaps. Talia, I think. She throws herself in between me and the sparkly male, like she could actually stop me from killing him. Bold.
“Where the fuck is she?” She demands.
I roll my eyes. “You summoned me because you thought I took her?” I take a step back so I don’t kill them both.
“She told us!” Talia barks. “She told us about you! About the card, about Hell, and Ethan. She told us what you did to him.”
“She told you?” I laugh, dry and bitter. “Of course she did.”
Ezra swallows hard. “We didn’t know what else to do.”
“Apparently summoning a fucking demon was your best plan?” I sneer, pacing the edges of the circle. “Well done. You nearly summoned Lucifer with this garbage. That would’ve gone great for both of you.”
I pace the small room, looking back down at the methods to summon me. Smart, I’ll give them that. They used nearly all of my calling methods. I quirk my lip up at the corner slightly, noticing that one of them even had the balls to use a little blood.
“So, is she with you?” Ezra asks, voice cracking.
I turn to them, annoyed by the panic, the mortal emotion seeping out of their every word. I forget how fragile they are
“She’s in Hell,” I say flatly.
They both gasp, and Ezra throws a dramatic hand over his mouth before flopping himself into Talia’s arms as she scowls at me.
I roll my eyes, “Not that part of Hell, you morons. She’s in Zeriavoss. Alive, and being taken care of.”
They go deathly quiet, Talia going pale despite her tanned skin.
“I found her overdosed in her fucking shower. She nearly died. She’s in a coma now, by my order, but she’s not out of the woods yet. And I suggest if you truly care for her, you won’t summon me again. I won’t be as forgiving next time.”
They’re both crying, but I don’t care. They mean nothing to me. The only reason they’re still breathing is because of the girl lying in my kingdom, soul tethered by the thinnest thread.
Another summons tingles down my spine, and I resist the urge to groan. This is one I cannot ignore.
I disappear through the veil without another word, materialising in front of the most insufferable beings this universe has ever vomited into existence. The Divine Six. Of fucking course. Because apparently my day wasn’t going bad enough already.
They’re already seated in their favourite little theatrical arrangement on pedestals carved from glowing marble, sitting in the shape of a crescent moon. It’s a shrine to their own egos, six thrones of divine arrogance. And true to form, none of them even bothers to greet me. How charming.
“You’ve brought a mortal into Hell. Again.” Seraphiel begins, her voice cutting through the atmosphere.
There she is. Kicking off the sanctimonious parade as per usual.
“She needed help.” I bite back, folding my arms.
“You are meddling where you should not.” Amarithe adds, her lips pursed into something between a pout and a smirk. Her head tilts just enough to flash the soft gold of her circlet. What useless ornamentation for someone who hasn’t lifted a finger in a few thousand years.
Velentha lifts her head, the time runes on her arms glowing faintly, pulsing like veins of prophecy. “You do not own her soul, Korithax.”
Of course, they know. You can’t do anything around here without her fucking knowing about it.
“I did.” I say flatly. “Her father traded it like cheap coin for his own worthless skin.”
“And yet, it is not in your possession anymore.” Elaron murmurs, tone smooth as glass. “Why?”
There it is. The question I didn’t want to answer, not now.
Not like this. I’d planned on telling Daisy myself, when she was old, ready to cross over to the other side.
I didn’t want to discuss it here in this sanctimonious hellhole, in front of six relics trying to play ruler.
I hold in my sigh, because I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me irritated.
“I gave it back.”
A pause, the room going deathly silent. Here we go. Velentha tilts her head, her face unreadable beneath her hood.
“That does not answer the question, Child of Ruin.”
There it is again. That fucking nickname. I clench my jaw until it clicks. I don’t ask why she calls me that. I don’t even want to know. Whatever she’s seen in some bullshit web of fate she crawled out of is none of my business.
“I owe you no such answers,” I say, voice low and laced with venom, “because it does not concern any of you.”
A beat passes and I flash them a cold, crooked smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have far more important things to do than sit in a room with pretentious assholes who’ve forgotten what it means to get their hands dirty.”